


The Blind Goblin

by GuestPlease



Series: Albus Severus Potter- Consulting Detective [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, also yes Rose comes back because she is the best, and so does Cedric even if it's not his jurisdiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-09-16 19:18:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9286175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuestPlease/pseuds/GuestPlease
Summary: Albus has an enormous crush that he is not handling the best way. He is not handlinganythingthat well, honestly. Scorpius, however, is a little better. Also, we get some more of his elusive background! Fun! (No he wasn't a drug dealer in Hong Kong)Join Rose as she occasionally pops up to be a Responsible Adult (tm) unlike these two.Join Albus as he tries to convince Scorpius not to get a job for reasons that aretotallyunrelated to his enormous crush.Join Scorpius as you ask yourself, does he really notknowwhat is going on here?Really?





	1. I really shouldn't have these OCs running around, I made their backstory too complicated

Dr. Rose Granger-Weasley was miserable.

She _hated_ these high-society luncheons with the burning passion of a thousand suns. The only reason she was here was as a favor to her mother.  
“So, there I was, staring evil down…” A soft blip interrupted Ron Weasley’s story. Everyone immediately turned to stare at Rose, and Hermione Granger sighed. “Rose…”  
Rose stood. “Ah, an actual emergency. Apologies, everyone.”

Hermione held out her hand, and Rose handed over her phone.  
“Who is Scorpius?” Hermione asked.  
“Albus’ boyfriend. Panju described him as ‘cherubic’.” Mentioning Panju was a bit of a low blow, but Hermione handed her daughter’s phone back anyway.  
Twenty or so minutes later, Rose dashed up the stairs to 221B Baker Street. “I got here as fast as I could!”

Albus was bathed completely in blood, and was standing on a bath mat in the middle of the room while Scorpius scrubbed at bloody footprints on the floor. There was a draft from the open, no, _broken_ window.  
“Hello, Rose.” Albus remarked miserably.  
“Why are you covered in blood?” She demanded. “Never mind, the message was correct.”  
Albus turned to Scorpius. “What did you say to her?”  
“I said, do you have any way to get blood out of wood? And then I gave a smiley face, so it’s all alright.”  
Albus nodded. “Good tactic.”

“Point blank asking that is not a good tactic.” Rose huffed. “How did this happen, anyway?”  
“I thought you didn’t care.” Scorpius said.  
“I changed my mind.”  
Albus gave a long sigh. “Well, _first_ Scorpius decided he was going to get a job, and I told him he didn’t need to, and he insisted, because apparently the chip-and-pin machine had refused him, and I told him to take my card and he said that wasn’t the point, then a man burst in and tried to force me to take the case and Scorpius threw a bucket of blood I had for experiments at him, and now we have no groceries and a looming conversation about my account.”

“Was the bit about me getting a job really necessary?” Scorpius asked, looking up from a particularly stubborn footprint.  
“That’s the most important part!” Albus huffed.  
“It’s not exactly _relevant_ , though.”  
“It most certainly is. Do you want to make something of it?” Albus asked excitedly.

Scorpius cocked his head. “What…?”  
“Er… nothing.”  
“Albus, it seems like you’ve been badly trying to rile me up recently…”  
“What? Pssh, no. Not at all.” Albus did, however, lean forward.  
“Cold water helps.” Rose said to Scorpius. “And cleaning fluid, maybe? Mrs. Figg might have something good.”  
Scorpius snapped his fingers. “Thank you, Rose.” He then disappeared down the hall.

“Seriously though, what was all that about?” Rose asked.  
Albus sighed. “That day a few weeks ago when Scorpius moved in… we ran into James and _his_ brother. Scorpius’ brother made him so mad that he kissed me. It was quite enjoyable, actually.”  
“Why not just say that you want to kiss him?” Rose asked.  
“ _What_?! Are you crazy?! I-I-I can’t…! That’s not how it’s done! Besides, he apologized profusely so it was an act of passion in the moment and thus he doesn’t think of me like…”

“Wow, you are terrible at this.” Rose said. “Wait, was that your first kiss?”  
“No.” Albus huffed. “Of course not.”  
Rose crossed her arms, smirking. “Then who was?”  
Albus pinched the bridge of his nose. “If you _must_ know, it was Allan Bradshaw.”  
“I thought you hated him.”

“Our rivalry was based mostly in unresolved sexual tension.”  
“You were _twelve_. What sexual tension?”  
Albus rolled his eyes. “Never mind, you wouldn’t understand.”  
Rose rolled hers as well. “Imagine that.”  
Scorpius burst into the room with an enormous amount of cleaning supplies, mostly in a large plastic bucket. “I feel like a housewife from the 1950s.”

“We’ll just call you Mildred then.” Rose replied.  
Scorpius made a face. “ _No_. That name is _terrible_.”  
“Dude, your name is _Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy_.” Rose snickered. “Mildred isn’t nearly so bad.”  
“Hyp… how do you know his middle name?” Albus asked as Scorpius glared at Rose, then at the bloody footprints, muttering curses under his breath.

“Because I’m dating a cute girl in Human Resources. So you’re probably getting that job you applied for.”  
Albus paled. “You already applied? To St. Bart’s?”  
“Well, why not? I had my residency there, after all.” Scorpius smiled. “And I can’t say that I’ve ever had to clean up bloody footprints there. Now… I think you’re fairly dry, go shower. And burn those.”

“But I _like_ these.”  
“Well, they’re completely ruined, same with the bathmat. Come on, I don’t want to live surrounded by bio-waste. And Mrs. Figg draws the line at bodily fluids.”  
Muttering darkly, Albus stepped off of the bathmat, which Scorpius tossed into the fireplace. “We will discuss this job business when I get out.” Albus said.  
“Alright, looking forward to it.” Scorpius smiled.

Rose swore she saw Albus’ pupils dilate, before he hastened away.  
“So, you and my cousin... basically I heard about the kiss.”  
Scorpius flushed. “O-oh? You… did? From James, I guess?”  
“No, from Albus.”  
Scorpius turned away to stare at the floor. “I… my brother makes me quite emotional.”  
“I mean, so do mine, but I’ve never kissed a girl because of Panju pissing me off.”

Scorpius’ ears began to turn red. “I lost control for a moment, and I am so sorry… I got carried away and—”  
“Don’t _worry_ about that. Worry about the fact that the son of an MI-6 operative has a major crush on you.”  
“Who…?” Scorpius blinked owlishly.

“Albus.”  
“Really? Wow. I had no idea that Albus had a parent in MI-6.”  
“No one ever mentioned it? Wait, that’s not the important part.”  
Scorpius blushed. “Diggory mentioned _MI-5_ once and Albus got mad… but you’re right, that’s not important. He likes me?”

Rose passed a hand over her eyes. “One of these days, I’m going to introduce you to Hugo, so he, Panju, and I can take it in shifts to help you two nerds woo each other.”  
“Oh, I’m sure that you and Pryansh are very busy… who’s Hugo?”  
Rose held up three fingers. “Child one: Panju. Or Pryansh, but it feels weird to call him that. Child two, with Mum this time: me. Child three, still with Mum: Hugo Richard Weasley. He’s about Lily’s age, she’s Albus’ sister, but Hugo works as an engineer in Leavesden. He comes down to London every once in a while.”

“Who does?” Albus reentered the conversation, wearing a dress shirt and slacks.  
“Hugo.” Scorpius said as Rose squinted at Albus. “How did you get clean so quickly?”  
“I don’t think he dried off.” Scorpius noted as Albus’ shirt began to cling to his body  
“ _Dude_ , what the… why do I have to be here for your weird seduction attempts? Go put on another shirt and dry off, you look like a stripper.”  
Albus and Scorpius both glared at her.

“I don’t think I need to.”  
“It’s unseasonably warm today.” Scorpius said. “Water might help him cool off…”  
“If it was so warm why did he take a flash-dip?” Rose asked, unimpressed.  
Scorpius blushed again. “Well, I feel warm…”  
Rose passed a hand over her eyes. “Dear God, at least go into the other room. I don’t even want to _think_ what will go through Mrs. Figg’s head if she walks in and finds Scorpius on his hands and knees and Albus wearing a _very_ transparent shirt _in the living room where anyone could see_.”

Scorpius blinked innocently. “Why would that be construed badly, Rose?”  
“Right, maybe _you_ are attributing meaning to it.” Albus snorted.  
Rose pinched the bridge of her nose. “This looks like the beginning of a pornographic video, and _I_ am the one who needs to back off?”  
“Yes, get your mind out of the gutter.” Albus ordered, before Scorpius finally managed to get the bloodstains out. He then carried the bucket full of dirty water into the kitchen, and dumped it into the sink, before returning for the bottles of solution that he had poured into it and scurrying downstairs.

“Is your floor radioactive now?” Rose asked after counting just how many bottles he had.  
“Don’t be ridiculous Rose, we now likely have the cleanest floor in all of London.” Albus huffed, collecting his laptop from the desk.  
Rose looked the room over. “ _Right_. Anyway, if my mum calls, please pretend that you were, or are, actually, dying.”  
“Why?”  
“Because I don’t want to return to high society.”

“Well, we’re busy. Penelope Nott sent me an email asking for help.”  
Rose leaned over to look at the computer that Albus had retrieved. “Nott? Didn’t you hate… that’s not your computer background.”  
Albus nodded. “Correct, it’s Scorpius’.”  
“Did Nott email _him_?”

“No, she emailed _me_. Why would she email him?”  
“I don’t know. For the same reason you can’t use your own computer?”  
Albus frowned at her. “Don’t be ridiculous, Rose.”  
“Is that my computer?” Scorpius asked as he returned.

“Mine was in the bedroom.” Albus replied.  
“Are you poking around my emails? Please don’t. Hey, how did you guess my password anyway?”  
“Trial and error, mostly. I got through most of the figures in Greek Mythology before coming to Atlas.”  
“The keys are worn down, though.” Scorpius pointed out.  
Albus tutted. “No, that’s not reliable. I’ve seen you—you type a lot. A and S are both relatively common keys. Also, clean this. You must have brought half the dust of Afghanistan into the flat via your computer screen.”

“What’s the significance of Atlas?” Rose asked.  
“It’s my brother’s middle name.” Scorpius shrugged. “I haven’t gotten ‘round to changing it yet, I’ve had that computer for quite some time.”  
Albus stilled at the mention of Orpheus, and Rose shot him a patented Look of ‘don’t you dare use this to your advantage’.

“This is… about Orpheus… but you have a bad relationship with him currently.”  
“Yes, well, I’m not the most technologically advanced person… didn’t you say you had a case for us?”  
Albus snapped out of his thoughts. “Yes. I do. Come, we’re going to the bank.”  
Scorpius went to fetch his coat. “If this is about me getting a job—”  
“I _told_ you, you _have_ a job; you’re my doctor/assistant.”  
“That’s just a circle of money being rotated between us.”

And so they lightly squabbled all the way to Gringotts Bank of England.  
“Gringotts? I have an account there.” Scorpius then looked at Albus warily. “Were you snooping through my personal information?”  
Albus clicked his tongue in distaste. “I wouldn’t need to. I have no interest in where you have your money located, I can share my card with you so you don’t need… no, not that way.” Albus laced his fingers with Scorpius’, and led the other man up the escalator to the traders’ area.

“Albus Potter? I have an appointment.” He said to a receptionist.  
“One moment please… yes, she’ll see you now.” The receptionist smiled. Albus did not let go of Scorpius, and Scorpius walked alongside him so as to not appear like a chastened toddler.  
“By the way, I think it’s very sweet of you to bring your husband along.” The receptionist smiled.  
“Oh, we’re not married.” Scorpius said quickly.  
“Oh? Boyfriends then?”

“We live together.” Albus supplied. Scorpius nodded.  
The receptionist did as well. “Ah, that’s sweet then. Go on in, she’s waiting for you.”  
Albus still did not let go of Scorpius’ hand, but Scorpius held the door for him.  
Penelope Nott was sitting at her desk, typing furiously. “Well, sit down.”

“This isn’t a proper greeting for an old friend.” Albus pointed out.  
Penelope looked up. “We’re acq… oh, hello. Wasn’t expecting to see you here.”  
“ _You_ emailed _me_.” Albus huffed, while Scorpius waved.  
Penelope pointed a pen at Albus. “ _Not_ you. Scorpius, what are you doing here?”

“We’re together.” Scorpius replied.  
Albus nearly choked, and Penelope frowned. “Scorpius, you can do _so_ much better than Potter. I have some friends—”  
“No, no, no, not like _that_.” Scorpius said hurriedly. “We’re flatmates.”  
“Is _that_ what they’re calling it now?”

“Not the point.” Albus snapped. “Unless you called us here so you and Scorpius could gossip about your baby and your lack of a husband.”  
Penelope stood, clenching her teeth. “Potter, keep yourself out of my life. I don’t mind your _observations_ most of the time, but bring my son into it and reveal very personal information that I was debating telling one of my oldest friends _myself_ , and we’re going to have a problem.”  
“Like I said Nott, _you_ emailed _me_.”

“Okay, why don’t we all just calm down and noticeably not murder anyone?” Scorpius asked. “We can deal with Penny’s life later—let’s get down to business, yeah?”  
“Fine. What are you willing to offer me?” Albus asked. Penelope pulled a check out of her pocket and handed it to him. Albus grasped it warily with two fingers, glancing at Scorpius as he read it. “See? You don’t need a job.”  
Scorpius smiled exasperatedly. “Albus, no. I’m going back to work, and that’s final.”  
Albus scoffed, then handed the check back to Penny. “I’ll take half, then. Money is of no concern to me.”

“No, it wouldn’t, being a _mortal_ concern.” Penelope sneered, before turning to Scorpius. “Listen, tell Mrs. Bryerly, the receptionist, that I said you two could have the good cocoa if you want some.”  
Scorpius lit up. “I know you’re just trying to get rid of me, but I rather _would_!”  
As soon as he was gone, Penelope leaned back. “I can tell when people want something. Out with it.”  
“Your charm must be the reason you’re not sequestered away in human relations.” Albus snorted. “I want that picture of Scorpius on your desk.”

“Alright, I’ll bite. How did you know it was a picture of him?”  
“the same way I know your child is incredibly young—observation. With the picture, your eyes darted down to it for a split second when you noticed Scorpius. Since you are _old friends_ , I can only assume it would be _of_ him instead of _relating to_ him, like a picture of Orpheus Malfoy would be. You know how I work.”  
“I’m better at making deals, but yes, I do. And no, you most certainly cannot. You are being hired in a professional capacity by _Gringotts_ , not by _me_. And you most certainly cannot indulge your weird obsession with him with my blessing.”

“It’s not weird!” Albus hissed. “No weirder than _your_ obsession with your baby’s father!”  
“Wh… have you two had _sex_?!”  
“No, but we actually live together!”  
“Your situation is completely different from mine! You’ve known him… what, three, four weeks? I knew Ces… I knew my baby’s father for years before we ever did _anything_ romantic!”

“Oh, yes, you’ve been tragically following after him like a lost dog.” Albus rolled his eyes. “Wait, is this the same one that you liked so much during university?”  
Penelope crossed her arms and glowered. “Honestly Potter, at the end of the day, I can’t hate you any more than I already do. But when you get bored and inevitably hurt Scorpius, that’s where I draw the line. Do you want the case or not? You said I know how you work, can’t you accept that I would know what kind of cases you should be summoned for?”

Albus stared her down with an air of an exceptionally proud bird. “I still want that picture.”  
“You mentioned Orpheus, go bother him.” Penelope stood and opened the door, revealing Scorpius looking at the screen with the receptionist.  
Scorpius straightened, and smiled. “Hey, all done? By the way Penny, your son is really very cute. Can I be his godfather?”  
“You’re Catholic, I’m Protestant.”  
Scorpius sighed while Albus tucked away that bit of information. “Pity, I thought he’d take after his father.” Penelope stiffened, while Scorpius brightened. “No matter, we’re always free to babysit.”

“What? No we aren’t.” Albus hissed as Penelope led them to the elevator. After a few minutes of listening to an instrumental version of the ‘Pina Colada Song’  they finally arrived at their destination.


	2. I hope when Scorpius meets Ginny it's more normal

Penelope led them to an office, swiped a card, and threw the door open to reveal a painting of a short man with a protruding chin and sharp, separated teeth. Scorpius and Albus both cringed when they saw it, partially because of the large chartreuse stripe of paint across his eyes.   
“Sir Gerald Grippe of Hooke.” Penelope nodded at the portrait. “One of our founders. We kept his office like this to preserve his memory.”   
Albus turned to look at her. “ _Why_? Oh, never mind. Where are the security tapes? Quickly now, we’ve wasted more than enough time.”

Penelope showed them that the vandal only had a one minute interval between camera rotations.   
“And here’s the piece de resistance—you’ve probably noticed all the card sliding, provided you weren’t looking at someone as though you were both standing up at the altar and the photographer was coming by.”   
Scorpius flushed bright red, and Albus really, really wanted to kiss him. “I-I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”   
“I wasn’t talking about you, but thank you for your contribution. The point is, we log _every_ door being opened and closed. And that office stayed shut in our records all night long.”

Albus straightened, pushing Scorpius’ cute blush out of his mind. Then he stared at the portrait of the goblin-like man for a few seconds, before walking to the cubicle section of the office. He would stand, walk to another location, look at the painting, and then crouch and repeat.

“It seems like it was just petty vandalism.” Scorpius pointed out.   
Penelope shrugged. “Petty vandalism that we were blindsided by. Speaking of blindsided by, how are you both such idiots? You’re two of the smartest men I know, and if you tell him I said that, I will hurt you.”   
Scorpius turned. “What do you mean, ‘idiots’?”   
“Holy… Scorpius, I know for a fact Mrs. Bryerly can hear me in my office, and so you heard the _entire_ matter of the picture. Poor, uneducated simpletons, the sort who marry their cousins and drink far too much alcohol, would have grasped the situation by now.”

Scorpius shuffled his feet awkwardly as Albus continued his gopher impersonation. “Penny, I… I mean, I _know_ , sort of? He’s not so good with people, he’s probably blowing everything out of proportion. And really, it’s my fault, I may have kissed him a few weeks ago, and now I think he’s trying to react accordingly, maybe just to keep me from running off and leaving him all alone.”   
“Not that you’re necessarily Casanova yourself. So, what do you feel about him?” Penelope asked as Albus began interrogating the people around a certain desk.

“What do you feel about Cesare?” Scorpius replied lightly. “Albus is brilliant, Penny. His mind is so much _better_ than anything I’ve ever seen, and I could listen to him speak all day long, and he looks like a god--”  
Penelope cut him off as Albus sat down and began trying to guess the particular computer’s password. “You can’t possibly be in love with him yet, you don’t know each other that well. You just got back.”   
“Three weeks.” Scorpius admitted. “I’ve been back for three weeks.”  
Penelope narrowed her eyes and punched his arm. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“Well, no, not if you’re going to react like that.”   
Penelope growled menacingly as several people converged on Albus talking about the sensitive information. Albus stared them down while typing in something, not breaking eye contact with one of them the entire time.   
“Scorpius, you can’t go off and do the self-sufficient loner thing again. You _can’t_. That’s what landed you in the military, and that’s why Cesare and I didn’t talk to you for so long. I make _so_ much money and _yes_ , most of it is going to Telemachus’ upbringing. But hell, I have a lovely guestroom that is Potter-free.”

Scorpius flashed a blinding smile. “I hear what you’re saying, but if it’s all the same, I’d be more inclined to accept your offer of a room if Albus was there.” Penelope stared. Scorpius continued obliviously, “He’d be so sad if I just up and left him at Baker Street, and my conscience could never handle it.”   
“And… _done_! Thank you all _so much_ for your patience.” Albus smirked.

“You let Romilda alone!” One hissed.   
“I assure you, I’m not the problem here.” Albus pointed to Sir Gerald Grippe of Hooke. “Someone broke in here past all your security and left _that_ message for Madam Vane.”   
Her colleagues shared worried glances.   
A woman in a green dress with a matching barrette stepped forward. “And you’re going to Scotland Yard…?”   
“What? No, I want to _solve_ this case.” Albus over-enunciated ‘solve’. “Scotland Yard will eventually get it, but then Romilda Vane may be at the bottom of the Thames with a new hole drilled into her forehead and broken bones. Or being trafficked to Moldova and then to Russia to make _many_ Russian men somewhat satisfied and a good deal poorer, one can never tell with these things.”   
The woman in the green dress burst out crying.

Scorpius hurried over. “I assume that means you’ve found our next lead?”   
“Yes. But be warned, we _may_ be going to Moldova. Potentially Russia.”   
The woman in the green dress began crying harder.   
“What did you _say_ to her?” Scorpius demanded.   
Albus looked vaguely pleased. “Well, it’s not important, is it? Come on, Scorpius. The game is afoot.”

Scorpius followed Albus downtown to an apartment building. “Are you going to explain anything?”   
Albus smirked at him. “Would it make you angry if I didn’t?”   
“It would make me annoyed, yes.”   
“Romilda Vane lives here. Her desk is across from Griphook, or whatever his name is. She is also the only one that can see it clearly.”   
“Sir Gerald Grippe of Hooke. So it was a message for her?”

Albus nodded, pleased.   
Scorpius frowned in thought. “Why her though? What was the message?”   
“ _That_ is precisely what we are here to find out.” Albus marched over to the list of the names of people in the apartment, scanned it, then tapped the glass plate of a paper one. “New, just moved in.”   
“Maybe she never bothered to change it?” Scorpius pointed out. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter—Romilda sounds like a woman’s name.”

Albus sighed in thought. “Germanic influences… Scorpius, how good is your German?”   
“…my name is Greek, that doesn’t mean I _speak_ Greek.”   
“Doesn’t matter, Romilda Vane is a polyglot. I’m willing to bet she also has recent German ancestry.”   
Scorpius paused. “I’m not even going to ask how you know that. Swiss German or German-German?”   
“It doesn’t make a difference, just do the accent. This is a precaution.”

Scorpius gave him a look of deep disapproval, but nodded. Albus pressed the ‘Vane’ button, but nothing happened. Apparently expecting this, he poised to tap the new one. “Now, tell her you’re Romilda’s brother from Germany.”   
“ _What_?”   
“Just do it!” Albus hissed.

Scorpius gave him a long look, but nodded. A few seconds after they buzzed, a woman answered.   
“Hello?”   
“Hello, is Mrs….” Scorpius checked the plate. “Wintle there?”   
“Um, it’s Miss Wintle… how can I help you?”   
“ _Entschuldigung, fraulein_. _Mein schwester_ , Romilda, lives in…” Scorpius checked the plate again. “Apartment 22A, but she is not buzzing me up. Can you?”   
“Uh, sure, I can do that.”

“Also, we _may_ need to use your balcony.” Albus chose this moment to enter the conversation.   
“ _Vas_?” Scorpius asked at the same time as Ms. Wintle said, “What?”

A few minutes later, Scorpius nervously wrung his hands as Albus tested the weight of the railing. “This is a _bad_ idea…”   
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Albus replied flippantly. “If I fall, that’s what you’re here for.”   
Scorpius frowned. “Albus, don’t make light of this.”

Albus let go with one of his hands, and Scorpius yelped, before hurriedly covering his mouth.   
“Are you alright?” Ms. Wintle asked him.   
Scorpius grimaced as Albus dropped down, then did the same to the balcony underneath where Romilda Vane purportedly lived. “You know, I worry about him when I go back to work.”

Ms. Wintle nodded slowly. “I feel the same way about my husband. Lord knows I love the man, but he will accidentally stick his head in the oven trying to microwave dinner.”   
Scorpius blinked owlishly. “That is… ludicrously incompetent.”   
Ms. Wintle pointed to the balconies below. “You married someone out of the Bourne Identity instead of asking your sister to let you in. _That_ is incompetent.”

“We’re not… never mind, he’s going to forget me if I don’t get down there.”   
“But it’s _your_ sister.”   
Scorpius shrugged. “Albus is… a rogue card. Actually, if you’ll excuse me?”

Scorpius then hurried to 22A, and knocked sharply on the door. “Albus? _Albus_? Please let me in.”   
He could hear someone moving around inside, and knocked again. “Albus, this isn’t funny. We’re meant to be a team.”   
Albus opened the door. “Scorpius, your sister is sadly dead.”   
“How do you know that?” Scorpius asked warily as Albus let him in.

“Because I found her in here with a bullet through her head.” Albus closed the door. “Worry not, I already called 999.”   
“0118 999 881 999 119 7253.” Scorpius said under his breath.   
“I’m sorry, what?”   
“Oh, nothing.” Scorpius said. “Sorry about Ms. Vane though. And that we lost our lead.”

Albus shrugged. “Well… not necessarily. After all, she _was_ executed.”   
“What?”   
“I’ll explain when the police get here.” Albus replied flippantly, watching Scorpius out of the corner of his eye. Scorpius frowned.

Later, when Albus safely had his non-latex gloves on and Scorpius was done going over the notes with the forensic analyst, Scorpius asked, “So why did you say she was executed?”   
“Because she _was_.” Albus replied.   
“The analyst said she committed suicide. And she locked all the doors, remember? You had to force them.”   
“Like our friend at the bank, with the unopened doors.” Albus pointed out. “Clearly, she didn’t get the message.”

“Was it a warning?” Scorpius asked.   
Albus crossed his arms. “The one at the bank? I don’t think so. She didn’t run.”   
“Why would she?”   
“Wouldn’t you? These people clearly aren’t messing around. And if Ms. Vane was the sort to get into the kind of business where one is executed and it looks like a suicide, she was smart enough to run away.” Albus pointed out, snapping his gloves.

“So why didn’t she?”   
Albus pointed at Scorpius. “That’s the question. Maybe she didn’t have enough time. Or _maybe_ , she thought she could bargain. We’ll have to see. I need to examine the body myself. The point is, it wasn't suicide, look around. She's left-handed, and the bullet hole was in her right side.”   
“I’m sorry, who are you?” The policeman at the door to the bedroom asked.   
“Albus Severus Potter. I discovered the body, and it’s my case.”

“Wh—oh, Potter? The one from MI-6?”   
Albus’ smile became frozen. “ _No_.”   
“Well, he’s coming ‘round and taking over the case.”   
“This has nothing to do with MI-6!”

“Hey, shh.” Scorpius grabbed his arm. “Calm down, Albus. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”   
The policeman scoffed. “What d’you take me for? I know my job. Potter was asked for specifically by InterPol, that’s why he’s here. As for you…”   
The apartment door opened and closed, and they heard someone call out, “Someone get me the details on this case.”

Albus gave a sigh of long-suffering. “This is just turning out to be an awful day. First, Nott emails me. Then you try to go get a job, even though there is absolutely no need for that. Then _he_ shows up.”   
Scorpius frowned at him. “I think you’re missing the part where you nearly died twice.”  
“No, that part I don’t mind so much.”

The policeman stared at him while Scorpius passed a hand over his eyes. “Albus…”   
Albus scowled as someone rounded the corner, looking at a police brief.   
Scorpius followed his gaze, then jumped. The man in front of them looked almost exactly like Albus, except with glasses, and roughly twenty years older. Honestly, that seemed like magic, considered James seemed like a normal person who had features that differed slightly from Albus’ instead of a carbon copy clone of their father.

Regardless, Potter Senior seemed surprised. “Albus…? _Malfoy_?”   
Scorpius waved. “Hello, I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. My name is Scorpius Malfoy.”   
“Don’t make nice with him!” Albus hissed, hugging Scorpius to him. “He is trying to _steal_ our case!”   
Albus’ father sighed. “Albus, I am trying to do no such thing. I did not ask for this assignment.”

Albus did not release Scorpius, who chose to lean his head against Albus’ shoulder while he was there. “Oh, I just _bet_. It doesn’t matter anyway, we’ll solve it first. I have Scorpius, what do you have? Scotland Yard? Ha. Useless louts.”   
Scorpius poked him gently in the cheek. “What about Diggory? You like him.”   
“If Diggory could find his way out of a paper bag without my help, I would still be snorting cocaine off of a tramp’s buttocks.”

Both Mr. Potter and Scorpius scowled.   
“Albus, is this your way of saying that you are still…” Mr. Potter said.   
“I’m going to find every dealer in the area and make them swear never to sell to you again.” Scorpius muttered to himself.   
“First of all, _Dad_ , no. This is my way of saying I’ve been clean for roughly six months. Second, Scorpius, I already did two weeks ago.”

“That’s alright then.” Scorpius agreed, before leaning up and whispering in Albus’ ear, “Hey, maybe your father will let you look at the crime scene?”   
Mr. Potter had a strange look on his face. “Oh… this is the one Pryansh mentioned, yeah? In his twitter?”   
Albus sighed. “How am I to know that? …well, I mean, he has, but Pryansh mentions lots of things. He mentioned a sandwich he ate a week ago, and an unnerving mime he saw on the street.”

“I think this is much more important than Pryansh’s lunch.” Mr. Potter pointed out.   
Albus scoffed. “Well, you’d probably care more.”   
“Okay, I think it’s time we left. Good luck with your investigation, Mr. Potter. We’ll be sure to share our conclusions with you.” Scorpius said, before pulling Albus away.   
“What are you doing?!” Albus hissed.   
“We don’t have time to get sidetracked over _this_ when he has a whole police department at his disposal.” Scorpius whispered.  

“Alright, fine then. We have to tell Nott anyway.” Albus huffed, before glaring at his father. “Go on, muck up the crime scene then. I’m sure you’ll muddle through.”   
“Lovely to meet you, Mr. Potter.” Scorpius added as neutrally as possible as he and Albus left.


	3. Why is this so long

Penelope Nott was dressed in a sweatshirt, Hello Kitty house slippers, and jeans with her hair pulled back and her make up off when she opened the door.  
“Why are you at my house.” She stated flatly, apparently unphased by Albus and Scorpius’ sudden appearance.  
“We brought a gift for your baby!” Scorpius handed her a teddy bear with golden fur and a smart bow around his neck. “We’ve decided to name him Barry.”

“Also Romilda Vane is dead.” Albus cut in smoothly.  
Scorpius slapped his palm against his forehead. “ _Albus_ , we agreed to lead into that!”  
“We did. We gave her the small bear thing.”  
“ _Yes_ , but I thought we were going to say it more _gently_.”  
“Why? Saves time this way.”

Penelope opened her door wider. “Come in and sit down. I was just about to order takeout. Hope you both like pizza.”  
“Thank you, Penny!” Scorpius smiled.  
“Yeah, yeah. Better you meet ‘Machus now rather than later. And while it’s sad to hear about Vane, and you’re not here for the pizza, the real issue is our security.”

Albus stuck out his tongue at the back of her head as she led them into the parlor, where a happy, dark-skinned baby was banging a rattle vigorously.  
“Look at you!” Scorpius cooed.  
Albus blinked. His handsome, cool-headed, war veteran doctor was one of _those_ people? The-the _cooing_ type? Oh dear. He’d have to break this particular habit.

Both men sat down with the baby, and Scorpius picked him up, tickling his tummy. “You’re a little charmer, aren’t you?”  
The baby giggled.  
Albus leaned over, made eye contact with the baby, and intended to demonstrate the proper way to address him. “Pleasant day, isn’t it?” He remarked coolly.

“Albus, he can’t understand you.” Scorpius pointed out.  
Albus shot Scorpius a look. “I know that, but at least I’m not lowering myself to-to-to… _cooing_ at it. It’s not a dog.”  
“He.” Penelope corrected, covering the phone momentarily.

Albus scoffed. “The point is, I’m sure the baby would prefer to be treated like an adult, wouldn’t you, Telemachus?”  
Telemachus blew a spit bubble, and Scorpius hid a smile. “But he’s _not_ an adult, he’s a baby, Albus. Here, hold him.”  
Despite being unprepared for a baby thrust upon him, Albus soon settled Telemachus on his lap.

“Dada?” Telemachus babbled.  
Albus frowned at him, and positioned Telemachus so they were eye to eye. “Now listen. I appreciate your sense of humor, likely indeed inherited from your father as your mother has none whatsoever, but this is not the case. Furthermore, while both of us have dark skin, I am of _Indian_ descent. It is an entirely different sub-continent from Africa, which is where some of _your_ ancestors were from. Frankly I find it racist that the first man with dark skin you see is assumed to be your father. Nott, tell him that’s racist.”

“He’s a baby.” Scorpius pointed out.  
“And? That’s no reason to let this slide.” Albus huffed.  
Penelope clicked the power button on her phone. “Right, pizza’s on its way—more to the point, Jeffords texted and said Vane’s death was a suicide.”  
“It wasn’t.”  
“I know that. Vane had nerves of steel—she reminded me of Mum a bit, honestly. Lost five million pounds in one day and made it back before breakfast. She inspired me. She wasn’t going to just commit suicide.”

“Alright, I mean, we know she didn’t, but still. She could have been hiding something.” Scorpius pointed out. “Maybe she had depression.”  
“She did, but that’s not the point. The point is that Interpol is involved, and someone staged her death to make it look like a suicide. Scorpius, show Nott how it’s impossible.”

Scorpius mimed shooting himself in the right side of his head with his left hand. “Bit hard, in my opinion.”  
“Yeah, well, why did they do it?” Penelope asked.  
“The break-in, or the murder? They broke in to send Vane a message, and she didn’t run because she thought she could reason with them. We’ve been over this.”  
“I haven’t.” Penelope pointed out.  
“Well, Scorpius and I have, and that’s what matters. Both times, it was in a high rise with no evidence of them coming through the door.” Albus began to pace.

“Spiderman must be looking for new work.” Penelope observed wryly.  
“I was thinking more like the original Dracula, where he does that lizard crawl down the building?” Scorpius said.  
“Oh my _God_ , you _nerd_.” Penelope laughed. “Where does InterPol come into this?”  
Albus, who had been scowling over how Nott’s laugh made Scorpius smile and how charmingly domestic this all looked, deepened his expression into a glower.  
Scorpius sighed in anticipation.

“Excellent point, Nott! This has absolutely nothing to do with Interpol, and what happens? Bloody _Dad_ , and bloody _Scotland Yard_ , which may I remind you, has nothing to do with Interpol show up at _my_ crime scene! The only reason I could guess is that Vane was doing something illegal that led to both her being attacked and Interpol watching her—oh. Oh my.”  
Penelope scowled at him. “Watch your tongue before you accuse Vane of that shite, Potter.”  
“The body, the body, was there anything special about the body…?” Albus mused to himself, waving her aside.

Scorpius pulled a crumpled and slightly wet paper flower out of his pocket. “I found this in her mouth?”  
Albus took it tentatively, then looked back at Scorpius. “You… really? This is excellent.”  
“What is it?” Penelope asked.  
“I haven’t the faintest idea.” Albus tucked it into his own pocket.

The next day, Albus was _highly_ irked as Scorpius left for an interview with the hospital.  
“I’ll pick up groceries while I’m out, yeah?” Scorpius called.  
“If you must.” Albus replied. Now he was just highly distracted. Couldn’t focus on anything—probably because they were doing construction down the street. Yes, that was it. Nothing to do with Scorpius potentially leaving him forever.

Scorpius, for his part, thought it was going well. The doctor kept glancing at his paper, then at him, then back to the paper.  
“I’m… sorry, what do you want?” She asked.  
“Oh, a job, please? I thought that was clear.” Scorpius flushed. Wasn’t it good enough?  
The head doctor squinted at the paper. “Yes, but… here? You’re quite overqualified. You graduated from _St. Andrews_.”  
“Coldest years of my life.” Scorpius remembered fondly.

“You served in the Armed Forces the moment you got out of medical school!”  
“Yes, I was wondering, that technically counts as a residency, correct?”  
“Well, I mean, I suppose so… but… what is _this_?” The head doctor held up a sheet of paper covered in black marker redactions.

Scorpius reached for it. “Ah, sorry. I was worried you would ask about that year?”  
“The only distinguishable words on it are, ‘Dr. Malfoy saved…’ and ‘…soldiers alive’.”  
“Yes. Sorry about that one?” Scorpius laughed nervously. “I’m sorry, I could just… I need a job?”  
“It’s going to be quite mundane.” The head doctor looked at the heavily redacted paper.  
“I can handle mundane.” Scorpius grinned.  
“Can you do anything else?”  
“Piano, fencing, and shooting are my main talents.” Scorpius listed off, before adding, “And everyone says I’m fairly good at paperwork.”  
The head doctor laughed. “Welcome to the team, Dr. Malfoy.”

Scorpius cringed when he got home hours later and the apartment was covered in pictures from every angle of Sir Gerald Grippe of Hooke’s defiled portrait and office in general. “Albus, why does our apartment look like we have an obsession?”  
Albus glanced back at him. “You don’t have an obsession. Neither do I, actually. Did you get the milk?”

“You didn’t ask me to get milk.”  
“I thought it was implicit.”  
“It wasn’t.”  
“Oh, bother. Well, where were you, anyway?”

“I got the job.”  
“How is it?”  
“Good. She’s good.”  
Albus stilled. “ _She_?” He began paying particular attention to every detail about Scorpius, then frowned. “ _She_?”

“The head doctor in my ward.” Scorpius said.  
“What’s _she_ like?” Albus asked suspiciously.  
Scorpius shrugged. “Somewhat old, I guess? She seemed a bit shocked at my references. She’s really very nice though. Once we got over the ‘redacted’ papers, she warmed to me very quickly. She showed me where the hot chocolate machine is in the lounge.”

Albus relaxed. Of course it was his penchant for sugar. Scorpius was, after all, clearly gay. No need to worry. “Come look at this.” Albus opened his laptop and pulled up an article about a reporter being murdered even though she was in a high-rise and all her doors were locked."

“You don’t think…?” Scorpius trailed off, looking at Albus.  
Albus leaned back. “I _know_.”

The next morning, Scorpius readily stood guard and distracted several of the police officers (Albus was sure he saw at least one Scamander in the bunch) while Albus slipped inside. He took pictures of the apartment, then hurried back outside to Scorpius.

A few minutes later, they met in the park.  
“So?”  
“ _So_ , we already know the killer can climb. This just confirms it.” Albus mused. “The question is, why Skeeter and Vane? They went to all this trouble over Vane, after all. But Skeeter? Where does she play into this?”  
Scorpius made a face. “Isn’t she the nasty, tabloid, gossip sort?”  
“ _Was_ the nasty, tabloid, gossip sort.” Albus pointed out glibly. “I also managed to see that she had quite a few library books checked out. Perhaps we should also go to the library?”

“Are you asking me to distract the librarian?” Scorpius asked tiredly. “She’s probably a little old woman, it would break her heart if I turned out to be lying.”  
Albus wrinkled his nose. “No, of course not. We’re not criminals, Scorpius.”  
“Not at the moment.” Scorpius shot him a small smile.

At the library, Albus made a beeline for a particular shelf, and began pulling books off one by one and handing them to Scorpius. Soon enough, they unveiled symbols just like that over Sir Gerald Grippe of Hooke.  
“So… why did they die?” Scorpius asked.  
Albus’ mouth was a thin line. “ _That_ lies in the cipher. We need to talk to a paint expert, Scorpius.”

Scorpius didn’t question Albus leading him to the National Gallery, though perhaps he should have questioned being led to the back alley.  
A girl with long blonde hair was there, painting something rather obscene in French via spray paint.  
“Ah, Cass.” Albus stepped forward and viewed the painting. “Wonderful. I’ll have to have you redo the living room.”

Scorpius squeaked. “Mrs. Figg will never let her paint _that_ all over the sitting room!”  
Cass popped her gum rather obnoxiously. “What do you need, Uncle Albus?”  
“Cass, please. First cousin once removed Albus.”  
“Yeah, whatever. You and Dad were raised like brothers.”

“…true. Cass, What can you tell me about this paint?” He handed his phone to her.  
Almost immediately, she replied, “Michigan hardcore propellant. Zinc, possibly? I don’t see a tag… don’t recognize the style either. This isn’t someone who paints a lot. See the shaky line there?”  
“Do you recognize the symbols?” Albus asked.  
Cass squinted at the picture, then shook her head. “Haven’t ever seen it before. Ask Maman, she’s the language expert.”

Albus handed her the picture. “Victoire is in France, as you well know. Can you ask around your community? I need it for a case.”  
Cass looked at it again, before pocketing it. “I’ll ask around, but I cannot promise anything.”  
“Thank you. And please, don’t tell my father.” Albus muttered.  
Cass rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t. It’s not as though he, posh as he is, would come to _me_ about this sort of thing. You’re better at him at finding details, and that’s the key, isn’t it?”

“Oi!” Someone called to them.  
Cass’ eyes widened, and she dropped her can of spray paint into a duffel bag, zipped it up, and then took off running. Scorpius and Albus quickly followed.  
“Why is it that we always end up running from the police on cases like this?” Scorpius demanded as they turned a corner.  
“One, for the exercise, two, because we blatantly defy their rules.”  Albus yelled back. “It gets us results though!”

“Stop!” The policeman yelled. Cass hopped a fence and disappeared, while Albus led Scorpius up a fire escape. They paused to catch their breath, and Scorpius looked at Albus. “Your cousin is what, 17?”  
Albus nodded slowly. “There’s not a huge age gap between us and her parents.”  
“Oh.” Scorpius’ words about her being practiced at this for someone so young died in his throat.  
“It’s all fine now… well… maybe not completely fine. Like I said, Victoire’s in France, and Teddy’s probably with her, and I don’t know who Cass is meant to be staying with. I’m one of the only ones who can approach her without her running off.”

“What about Pryansh?” Scorpius asked, sitting down cross-legged on the roof that they were on top of.  
Albus nodded. “He’s another one. If I had to guess, I’d say that she was working for him in exchange for something to eat regularly and somewhere to sleep. Cass doesn’t like handouts.”  
Scorpius nodded slowly. “She’s always welcome at our apartment.”  
“She knows. But she and I both need someone to ground us. Last time, she covered all the walls in an enormous mural, and I solved three cases in a row. Neither of us slept or ate until we collapsed and scared Mrs. Figg to death.”

Now Scorpius’ concern was clearly spread across his face.  
Albus sat down in front of him. “Understand, Teddy and Victoire love Cass. We all do. But Cass can be difficult at times, and she can be incredibly independent and headstrong. Cass has always felt… isolated… by the fact that her parents were always working, and the stigma of being born to such young parents. She would get into fights with cruel children… essentially, Cass has always considered herself a family outcast, and as such, will only associate with other family outcasts.”

“You’re not an outcast.” Scorpius said firmly.  
Albus smiled. “Not to you.”  
“Isn’t that what matters?”  
Albus nodded, then stood up. “Come on, we’re going to the police station. Or… you’re going to the police station.”

“Listen, my heart goes out to Cass, but I will not turn myself in on her behalf regarding the graffiti.” Scorpius huffed.  
Albus laughed. “No. I just want you to grab Skeeter’s diary from the impound lot, see what she had coming up.”  
“And you?” Scorpius asked.  
“Back to the bank to talk to one of Vane’s coworkers.”

Unfortunately for Scorpius, Harry Potter was at the impound lot.  
“Did Albus send you so he could avoid confrontation?” Harry asked.  
Scorpius frowned. “Albus was busy.”  
“Please tell me he’s not making you be his secretary or minion.” Harry sighed.

“How did you know we’d come?” Scorpius asked.  
“Because Skeeter died the same way Vane did. And Albus can’t resist evidence for long.” Harry handed Scorpius Skeeter’s diary. “I’m going to have to ask that you simply take pictures, I can’t let you remove evidence. My influence only stretches so far.”  
Scorpius nodded. “Why are you doing this?”

“I do care about my son, even if he feels that I don’t. I want him to be happy. So, please, can you stop glaring at me whenever we run into each other?”  
Scorpius raised an eyebrow. “No promises. But… thank you.” He pulled out his phone, photographed several pages in the diary, including a boarding pass, and handed it back to Harry before leaving.

Back at Gringotts, Green Barrette had finally calmed down and helped Albus access Google Calendars, and then was kind enough to print Vane’s receipts.  
“So she took a cab to… West End, I believe, given the time and price… and then she took the tube to Piccadilly Circus… curious.” Albus muttered.  
Green Barrette sniffled. “I keep thinking about what I could have done to save her.”

Albus patted Green Barrette awkwardly on the shoulder. “There, there. If you like confident, dark-haired women, Nott’s single.”  
Green Barrette looked up in surprise. “How did you… never mind. Nott’s straight.”  
“I mean true.” Albus conceded. “Back to Vane. Did she ever mention a package to you? Anything she needed to drop off….?”  
Green Barrette shook her head, and Albus sighed exasperatedly. “Well, despite your best efforts, you have been useless.” He quickly walked away before Nott could hear Green Barrette sobbing and yell at him.

He met Scorpius in front of a bar Vane had stopped at on her way back from dropping off the package.  
“Fancy meeting you here.” Scorpius grinned.  
Albus blinked in surprise. “Skeeter mentioned this place as well?”  
“Yeah, a few times. But more importantly, a specific place in her diary was circled—see?” Scorpius held up his phone and a picture on it.

“Excellent.” Albus said. “Wait, why’d you come here, then?”  
Scorpius smiled sheepishly. “Well… Skeeter mentioned it… and I’m starving. I thought I could look for clues while grabbing a bite to eat.”  
Albus blinked at him. “What? What time is it?”  
“It’s nearly 1am. We’ve been out all night.” Scorpius yawned. “And you need to eat more than I do.”

“What? No. I don’t. We need to solve the case before someone else dies.”  
“Albus if no one is dead yet, I think we’re safe. And you barely eat.” Scorpius took Albus by the elbow and pulled him into the bar.  
“This is _ridic_ —I am fine! I don’t need to eat! And shouldn’t we be heading home, don’t you have work tomorrow?” Albus demanded.  
Scorpius fixed him with a look. “You _do_ need to eat. I was with you all day, and you didn’t eat a thing. And as for work, no. I don’t. I’m on call, but I can go with you tomorrow when you inevitably scope London’s Chinatown out.”

“I’m not going to Chinatown.” Albus scoffed. Then he looked at Scorpius. “Why? What did you find?”  
“If you eat dinner with me, I’ll tell you.”  
Albus squinted at Scorpius. “Are you… serious? You’re equating this case to food?”  
Scorpius shrugged. “If it will make you eat, then yes. Come on, I’ll pay.”  
Albus shot him a look. “It’s not a matter of money. And you haven’t been paid yet.”  
“Albus, the sooner you and I order something, the sooner we can eat, pay, go home, sleep, and return when the shop that Skeeter marked is open.” Scorpius said firmly. “At least get some chips, or whatever pub food they have. Put something inside your stomach.”

Albus did not miss how they were ushered to a corner table and the waitress put a candle in front of them, but didn’t question it. If these people felt that they were on a date at one am, who was he to correct them? The food wasn’t exactly bad either.

He was in such a good mood that he only dragged Scorpius back to Chinatown at eight am instead of the planned six.  
Yawning all the same, Scorpius obediently acquiesced. As soon as they entered a shop across from the bar, a shop keeper immediately appeared out of nowhere.

“Hello!” She said enthusiastically.  
Scorpius, who was still half asleep, jumped about a foot in the air. “Agh! I mean, yes, hello.”  
“Didn’t you go to war?” Albus teased gently. “I would imagine enemy combatants are scarier than elderly women.”  
“I saw enemy combatants coming. That’s why I’m still alive.” Scorpius smiled.

“Would you like to buy this one?” The shopkeeper held a lucky cat up to him.  
“Ah… no thank you.”  
“Your wife would love it.”  
“I’m not…” Scorpius slowly backed away.  
“Your husband would love it.” The shopkeeper corrected. “He brought you here, right?”

Albus made a choking sound, and Scorpius flushed. “We’re not actually married…”  
“Your boyfriend!” The shopkeeper insisted. “Lucky cats are the epitome of romance! My husband proposed to me with a lucky cat!”  
“Did he really?” Albus asked.  
“Well, no, but you should buy one all the same.” The shopkeeper said. “It’s ten pounds. A good deal.”

Albus turned to look at Scorpius, and noticed the same symbols from before on more of the woman’s lucky cats. As she tried to wheedle Scorpius into buying (and Scorpius tried to politely extricate himself) Albus examined the wares, and the apparent cipher. After the shopkeeper had been mollified by the purchase of a cat, and had been happy to explain the number system, Scorpius and Albus resumed their walk along the street.

“So it’s a cipher.” Scorpius noted. “Fascinating. What book do you think it belongs to?”  
“One that was fairly innocuous… something both Skeeter and Vane would have had without raising suspicion.” Albus replied. “Something that _everyone_ has.”  
Scorpius nodded. “The Odyssey?”  
“No… too many versions…”  
“Wild Swans, by Jung Chang?”

Albus stared at him. Scorpius shrugged. “It’s about women, which both Skeeter and Vane were, and about China, which ties them together. Chang currently lives in England. It’s a good book, I own it.”  
“…we’ll put that on the backburner.” Albus decided. “How did you know it was a book?”  
Scorpius grinned. “I was obsessed with ciphers in my early teens. The number cipher is relatively simple if you know what you’re looking for.”

Albus stopped suddenly. “That’s Diggory’s house.”  
“Really? How lovely.” Scorpius looked at it appreciatively for a moment, even though the house was unremarkable.  
“He has a phone book on the doorstep.” Albus marched towards Diggory’s door.  
“Albus, leave it. People drop those off all the time. Diggory’s on a stakeout—he hasn’t had time to get it.”  
Albus examined the phone book. “This has been here since Monday—see how it’s got water damage? It hasn’t rained since Monday.”  
“It’s only Wednesday, give it time.” Scorpius remarked dryly.  
Albus shot him a look. “ _No_. No one has been here since Monday. Diggory may be on a stakeout, but his wife is meant to be home.”

“Maybe she went to visit her mother or some… Albus, what are you doing?” Scorpius asked.  
Albus was apparently climbing the fire escape and wriggling through an open window.  
“Albus!” Scorpius hissed, looking around. “You are breaking and entering! In a _police officer’s_ home! _Albus_!”

Albus didn’t answer.  
An unknown man approached Scorpius. “Excuse me, sir. We’re going to have to ask you what your name is. You’re loitering, and it’s making residents uncomfortable.”  
Scorpius resisted the urge to glance at the Diggorys’ house again. “Oh, you’re Scotland Yard?”  
“Yes.” The man replied.

Scorpius ran his tongue over his teeth, then nodded. “You caught me. I was loitering here at…” He checked his watch. “9:07 am. My name is Albus Severus Potter, and in case anyone tries to say that I was anywhere else… say, breaking into someone’s house… could you please write me—Albus Severus Potter—a citation?”  
“Everything you just said sounds completely suspicious.” The man pointed out.

“ _Yes_. But, believe me, people try to frame me— _Albus Severus Potter_ —for crimes all the time. All I am guilty of is loitering. At 9:07 am.” Scorpius tried to give the man an angelic smile. “Thank you for your time officer, I will go loiter elsewhere.”  
The man moved off, and Albus staggered out of Diggory’s house.  
“Are you alright?!” Scorpius demanded.  
“Fine.” Albus said hoarsely. “I had an epiphany—Skeeter and Vane were smugglers. They dropped something off there, at the Lucky Cat shop, and they both came back recently. One of them must have taken something, and they didn’t know which one it was.”

“Okay. Now, what happened at the Diggorys?” Scorpius asked calmly.  
Albus whined petulantly, and Scorpius pulled away his hands and scarf to see bruises on Albus’ neck.  
“Diggory’s wife wasn’t home.” Albus said when Scorpius made eye contact with him.  
“I can’t imagine Diggory arrived home from a stakeout to finally strangle you.” Scorpius said.  
Albus crossed his arms. “If I had to guess, I’d say that it was connected to Vane and Skeeter.”  
“How? And speak gently, I’m worried your vocal chords were damaged.” Scorpius gently traced the bruises, staring at them as though they held the secrets to the case.

“Is it any coincidence that Mrs. Diggory suddenly leaves and there’s an intruder in the flat specifically after her while all of this is going on?” Albus asked.  
“Probably, yes. For all we know, the intruder could have been looking to hurt Diggory. There were… what, 113 murders in London in 2015? 2011? They can’t all be related.”

“Look, I’m just saying it’s odd that Diggory’s wife ran off without so much as a by-your-leave. She left her cell-phone and personal items there, and there was no note for Diggory. They’re ludicrously happy, if she left, she legitimately thought that she was in danger. She didn’t leave before Vane was murdered, which was the most high profile incident recently. And, of course, there was a highly skilled assassin lurking about her apartment. If he wanted revenge on Scotland Yard, he’d do something like plant a bomb at the station. This was _personal_ , and it was not about Diggory. I only know his address because I followed him home one time, he doesn’t have it listed.”

Scorpius frowned. “You… followed him home?”  
“Yes? I needed to know.”  
“ _Why_ did you need to know?” Scorpius asked as he pulled Albus into a nearby restaurant and ordered some ice and some tea.  
“Because! What if there was an assassin who went after Diggory?” Albus demanded.

Scorpius gave a small smile, and wrapped some of the ice in a napkin before offering it to Albus. “You’re sweet. A bit misguided in your application, but sweet.”  
“Oh—mm that feels good… why are you flushing? Never mind—anyway, are you really one to talk? You tried to get _me_ a citation, presumably so I’d have an alibi if they caught me in Diggory’s house.”  
“Diggory can only overlook so much.” Scorpius shrugged. “An alibi never hurt anyone.”

Albus scoffed. “It could hurt you. We’re rarely separated—if I was the one loitering, then you could be the one who is arrested for breaking and entering.”  
Scorpius smiled and Albus’ heart melted. “Me? A veteran? A pediatrician with a stirling reputation? I’ve never had so much as a speeding ticket.”  
“That was before you met me.” Albus smirked.  
“Mm… no. See, I just look properly adorable and contrite, and officers say, ‘alright, just this once I’ll let you off with a warning’. And because it’s not entered in the system, my reputation is as clean as ever so they let me off again.”

“Devious.” Albus leaned forward.  
Scorpius leaned forward as well, so that their lips almost touched. “You think so?”  
The waitress arrived with their tea quite loudly, and they jumped apart.  
“Sorry sirs. Were you ‘avin’ a moment?” She asked.  
“Er… no, we weren’t. Thank you for the tea.” Scorpius said.  
Albus glared at her. He had _almost_ gotten another kiss from Scorpius _and she ruined it_. And no, he wasn’t sulking as he stirred in his sugar to make the leaf water more palatable. He was _thinking_. It was _different_.

“Mrs. Diggory works at the British Museum.” Albus commented as they drank their respective tea. Scorpius had thoughtfully gotten something herbal for his throat. “She works in conservation, and last thing I heard from Diggory was that she was in the middle of a project. She’s not the type to abandon her work.”  
“You said Diggory and his wife were deeply, madly in love.” Scorpius pointed out. “She’d leave her husband, but not her work?”  
“Work is important, and he knows where to find her.” Albus said cryptically, before his phone began beeping.

They met Cass at an abandoned railway station before they could proceed to the British Museum. She was painting something involving a man’s tongue being cut off with a lot of blood. Scorpius grimaced upon seeing it.  
“You found something?” Albus asked.  
Cass popped her gum, apparently having replenished her supply. “Yep. Remember your pictures? I found some more while looking for a place to paint.”

“Same colours, same paint?” Albus demanded.  
Cass nodded once. “Same symbols too.”  
Albus squished her face in his hands. “Cass, this is very, very important. What did they look like?”  
Cass handed her phone to Scorpius and tried to pull away.  
“Cass, I need you to concentrate!” Albus huffed.  
“Albus…” Scorpius began.

“Now, what did you see?” Albus demanded as Cass squirmed.  
“Albus!” Scorpius said firmly. “Let her alone!”  
“Scorpius, a woman’s life may be on the line!” Albus growled.  
“And Cass’ phone can take pictures.” Scorpius tapped the screen to keep it from automatically locking. Albus released Cass and looked at the pictures. “Oh… sorry, Cassandra.”  
Cass shrugged disinterestedly, but Scorpius could tell that she was pleased at having helped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos make for a very happy author (hint hint)


	4. Cedric Goes from 0-100 real quick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... like Panju, I'm pretty sure people of colour have expressed discomfort with Cho Chang's name, since everyone seems to agree she's ethnically Chinese and that's... not a Chinese name, or even a regional one (here being Cantonese). So she's technically not 'Cho Chang' anymore.

It should be noted at this point that Scorpius quite liked the British Museum. It was _fascinating_. Granted, one should not think too much about why several Egyptian sarcophagi were in England, but nonetheless, it was wholeheartedly interesting, and he hadn’t seen it in quite some time. So he may have dawdled, and Albus may have had to pull him along.

It wasn’t just because he wanted to hold hands with Albus… alright, _maybe_ it was. Maybe. Nonetheless, Albus had somehow acquired a floor plan of the British Museum, and was wielding it the way a pirate after particularly elusive treasure might.   
“Maybe it’s past the Joseph E. Hotung gallery?” Scorpius asked, peering at the map.   
“No, it’s too far.” Albus said, taking its other side. “What about upstairs, past Ancient Iran and the East stairs?”

“What are you two doing here?” A new voice asked. They turned to see a grim-looking Cedric Diggory. Both Albus and Scorpius noticed that Cedric’s clothes were splattered with blood, and that while his gun was holstered, it was cocked.   
“We’re here to look for your wife.” Albus answered honestly.   
“Are you alright?” Scorpius asked.   
Cedric nodded coolly. “I will be once I find her. Follow me.”

With purposeful strides, he led them to a back room, unlocked a door, then knocked. He opened the door, and Albus’ eyes widened. “Get down!” He hissed. Scorpius and Albus narrowly missed being shot by Mrs. Diggory. Cedric rushed forward despite his now bleeding ear. “Cho! Thank God you’re alright!”   
“She’s not the one who was nearly strangled.” Albus muttered. Scorpius squeezed his hand gently.

“I was so worried—where were you?” Cedric asked. “I tried to call you and it said your number was no longer available!”   
Cho pulled him into a hug. “I need to talk to you… Albus Potter?”   
“Hello. I can answer some questions. For example, Diggory, she’s here because someone is trying to kill her, someone who is probably behind the recent Vane/Skeeter murders.” Albus said.  
“What?!” Cedric demanded.

Cho sighed. “As I said, I need to talk to you. …Ced, why do you look like an action hero?”   
“I was worried.” Cedric said softly, cupping her face. “If anything had happened to you...”   
“And he was hurt, may I please look at that ear?” Scorpius asked.   
“Of course.” Cho went for a first aid kit. “Are you a doctor?”

“Yes. I’m a pediatrician at St. Bart’s, and before that, I was an army doctor.”   
“So why are people dead, Mrs. Diggory?” Albus demanded. “If that is your real name.”   
“Albus, that’s her married name.” Scorpius pointed out as he cleaned Cedric’s wound.   
“Were you in my house?” Cho added.

“Yes, and I met an assailant there meant for you.” Albus remarked. “Lithe woman, about 165 cm tall, East Asian origin, in her early fifties I’d say.”   
Cho nodded. “My sister. Let me start at the beginning—my name is not Cho Chang, as Albus said. My birth name was Lam Dak Cheon. When we were young, my sister, Lam Fan Guk, and I were orphaned due to political troubles. We were left to our own devices, our parents had no close relatives, and no distant ones willing to take in two little girls. Fan Guk left school early so that she could provide for me, but eventually fell into the world of drug smuggling.”

Cedric’s wife took a deep breath. “I felt so selfish, but she urged me to put my schooling first. But when I was in high school, I found out that it was more than drugs. She had joined the Tong.” She slowly raised her shoe and eased it off, revealing a Black Lotus mark.   
“What’s the Tong?” Cedric asked.   
“Ancient crime syndicate.” Albus frowned. “Please, Mrs. Diggory, continue.”

“I had the opportunity to go to a prestigious school. Fan Guk said that it would be fine, that she would find the money, but I didn’t want to think about what she’d do. So I went to the bosses to just ask for the money. And they said they’d give it to me, if I smuggled drugs across the border into Hong Kong. I got the mark of a foot soldier, and began. And then I got the scholarship opportunity here in England, and I left. Fan Guk was so pleased. She told everyone how her little sister was going to a prestigious Western university and how I’d change the world… anyway. Ced, you know how often she stops through to see us.”

Cedric nodded. “She doesn’t exactly like me.”   
Cho, or Dak Cheon as it appeared her name was, smiled wanly. “Yes, well, she… she’s here in London to look for something. As Albus said, Ms. Vane or Ms. Skeeter were involved, probably smugglers too, Fan Guk doesn’t really socialize outside of the Tong last I checked. But one of them stole something from the Tong, and Fan Guk wanted my help in finding it. She… she wanted me to ask _you_ to help, Cedric.”

“What is it?” Cedric asked.   
His wife bristled. “Absolutely not. We’re not doing this, Ced. I’m not going to let you throw away your life for this. Next time she will ask for more, and then more after that. Scotland Yard will turn on you, and I wouldn’t blame them, because you’d be a kingpin by the time Fan Guk is done with you.”   
“And you’re just going to hide in the storage rooms of the British Museum until you die?” Albus asked drily.

Mrs. Diggory held up her gun pointedly.   
“I know all about not getting along with one’s elder sibling, but trying to kill one another?” Scorpius asked.   
Mrs. Diggory scoffed. “She’s trying to kill me. It’s only fair I give as good as I get. Fan Guk thinks that I betrayed her.”   
Scorpius nodded. “Yes, again, this is very relatable. Last time Albus and I ran into my brother, he admitted that he was planning to drug me to make me go home. I am no stranger to older siblings overstepping their boundaries. But what, specifically, is she trying to find?”

“An artifact taken by one of those stupid women.” A new voice interrupted. Everyone but Scorpius tensed.   
Cedric rose, despite Scorpius’ protests.   
“Fan Guk, what are you doing here?” He snarled.   
Albus gestured to Cedric. “Look what you’ve done. You’ve ruined a perfectly good Diggory! Look at him, he never gets angry!”

Everyone shot him an unamused look.   
Fan Guk stepped into the light, making sure everyone saw the gun in her hand. “I can’t visit my baby sister? I need her, Diggory. She knows how to find artifacts like this. I’ve been considering shooting you for years.”   
Mrs. Diggory stepped forward. “You will _not_ hurt Cedric, Fan Guk.”   
“ _Cho_ ,” Fan Guk said in a way that sounded incredibly mocking, “I believe I can. I could kill all four of you right here and now if I so chose. I don’t want to do that, _Cho,_ even if your husband is an idiot, and _that_ one is a burglar, and _you_ betrayed me.”

“What am I?” Scorpius asked.   
Fan Guk cocked her head. “Aren’t you that famous consulting detective my stupid brother in law has more or less adopted because of his own impotence?”   
Albus made a choking noise. “ _No_ —”   
“Yes. I am.” Scorpius lied, pulling himself up to his full height. “And the person you called a burglar is my associate, Dr. Malfoy. If you shot him, there’d be all sorts of government investigations, and then the British get involved in your smuggling operation, and then it’s just a mess. Let him be.”

Fan Guk shrugged. “I don’t _want_ to shoot any of you, didn’t you hear? But unless my baby sister helps me, I will get rid of my stupid brother in law, and maybe you. I’ll take the burglar with me.”   
“I’m not a burglar, I was looking for clues!” Albus waved his arms in the air. “And you tried to strangle me!”   
“Enough.” Cho—or Dak Cheon—said firmly. “Stop threatening the boys, Fan Guk. I’ll help you find the artifact, and then you’ll let us be.”

“It’s not as easy as that, or we wouldn’t be here.” Cedric huffed. “Is it, Fan Guk?”   
“You can stand to repay me for turning my sister against me.” Fan Guk growled, hand moving to her gun.   
Cedric narrowed his eyes. “What do you want? For the murder cases to disappear? It’s an Albus case now, those don’t just _vanish_ , they don’t just turn into cold cases.”   
Fan Guk seemed to consider this, then she grabbed Cho in one fluid motion. She quickly pressed her gun to Cho’s head, and backed out of the room.

Cedric made as though to move, but Fan Guk made a hissing noise. “ _Don’t_ , Diggory.”   
“Ced, Ced, listen to me.” Cho said. “It’s going to be fine. Perhaps you should take a tour ‘round London, check out the guidebooks, relax for a little while.”   
Fan Guk rolled her eyes and snapped something in Cantonese. She tugged Cho roughly out of the room into the darkness beyond.

Cedric made as if to go after them, and Scorpius and Albus quickly intercepted him.   
“You can’t, she’ll kill Cho.” Scorpius said firmly.   
Cedric gave the most broken, desperate look Albus had ever seen, and the second most broken look Scorpius had seen.

“She just… took her…” Cedric finally said sadly.   
“And it’s lucky _we’re_ here.” Scorpius said, hurrying to get him the blanket Cho had apparently been sleeping under.   
“Now, what was all that nonsense about the guidebooks…?” Albus wondered.

Scorpius somehow had acquired a teapot and something herbal, and was brewing everyone a cup.   
“What did she mean about Vane and Skeeter?” Scorpius prodded Albus gently.   
“Isn’t it obvious?” Cedric sighed. “They’re smugglers, Vane and Skeeter took something from them, and it was an artifact. They worked for her, smuggling stuff, likely other artifacts in.” He pulled the blanket tighter around himself.

“Diggory, you’re probably right! You should be despondent more often, it makes you much cleverer.” Albus noted.   
Scorpius shot him a dark look, then handed Cedric some of the herbal tea.   
Albus didn’t see the look, instead moving to ponder something. “Hmm… Diggory, I need you to pull all the guidebooks from Vane and Skeeter’s effects. _I_ think Cho was giving us a clue.”   
“Obviously she was giving us a clue, you berk.” Scorpius sighed, handing Albus a cup of herbal tea as well. “This isn’t the place for this. You two, drink your tea, and we’ll head back to Baker Street and Albus’ conspiracy boards.”

“I don’t have conspiracy boards!” Albus hissed.   
Cedric gave a sad smile. “Yes, you do. I’ve seen them.”   
Eventually, Scorpius got them out of the British Museum, though Cedric looked more like a hobo than an action hero at this point.

When they got back to Baker Street, Cedric put in the order for books from Vane and Skeeter’s apartments. Soon enough, they arrived, along with Harry Potter.

“What are you doing in my house.” Albus said flatly, deftly moving around a pile of books.   
“Albus, what have you found?” Harry followed him.   
“This is _my_ case.” Albus snarled. “Bugger off.”  

Harry gave him an unimpressed look. “Don’t be rude, Albus. I have been lenient with you so far—how do you think your little blond friend got the Skeeter information? Just give me _something_ to work with.”   
Albus shot him a cool glare, then looked at Cedric, who was swaddled in blankets with a haunted look on his face. “Diggory! Are you up to telling Dad what happened?”

Cedric slouched in his chair and looked especially downtrodden.   
“What did you do to Diggory?!” Harry shrieked.   
“ _I_ didn’t do anything!” Albus hissed. “You can’t even prove that I broke into his house!”   
Harry’s eyes widened almost comically. Before he could press Albus for answers, Albus gave him a raised index finger and middle finger, and disappeared into the kitchen where Scorpius had sought refuge. He had tried to help Albus with the books and gotten snapped at for it, and then he knew Harry would stir up trouble.

“Just making tea for Cedric.” Scorpius stirred a cup of tea that was nearly cold for emphasis. “Nearly done!”   
“Stop lying.” Albus huffed. “Diggory hasn’t even touched his last cup of tea. Scorpius—why didn’t you tell me about running into my father at the station?”   
Scorpius pursed his lips. “It wasn’t important at the time.”

Albus gripped his hair. “Not important? Scorpius, he’s following us! He’s using you, and you didn’t even notice!”   
Scorpius frowned slightly. “He’s not using me for anything, except to try to get closer to you. I don’t think anyone in London cares about this case as much as you, at least not the Vane/Skeeter aspect.”   
“So that’s his game…” Albus hissed. “He thinks we can just play happy families, is that it? Oh, clever clever Potter, but not clever enough…”

“I worry about you when you get like this.” Scorpius sighed. “Maybe your father just wants to make things right with you?”   
“Maybe yours does.” Albus huffed.   
“That was uncalled for.” Scorpius said firmly. “And it’s different—Dad isn’t here. Dad doesn’t want to talk to me, except to tell me what a disappointment I am to everyone.”

“…Orpheus didn’t seem to think he’d do that.” Albus said, glancing at Scorpius.   
Scorpius’ hands curled into fists. “Orpheus is an idiot. He doesn’t know anything about anyone, least of all me.”   
Albus bit the inside of his cheek. His own anger had more or less dissipated by this point, and even if he wanted kisses, this wasn’t the way to go about it. Scorpius would just hate him.

“Well, you’re not wrong there. Only an idiot would want to kiss James.”   
Scorpius gave a small laugh, and wiped at his eyes. Then he enveloped Albus in a crushing hug. Albus patted him awkwardly, taking a moment to catch a whiff of his hair. Scorpius smelled like peppermint and vanilla—idly, Albus wondered if he could just hoard all that brand of shampoo so that Scorpius would always smell this way. It wasn’t a kiss, but it was still so, so good.

“…are you two done in here?” Harry poked his head in.   
Albus shuffled them around so that he could glare at his father without letting go of Scorpius. By now, their hug had lasted far, far longer than hugs normally do, but Albus didn’t care.

Scorpius stepped back, and cleared his throat. “Do you need something, Agent Potter?”   
“Yes. I would _very much_ like to know what you did to Diggory to start with!” Harry hissed.   
Scorpius sighed and looked at Albus.   
“We didn’t do anything to him except give him enough tea to fill the Channel.” Albus spat. “He’s like this because the smuggling ring that killed Vane and Skeeter kidnapped his wife.”

“…Smuggling ring?” Harry asked.   
“A drug cartel from China.” Scorpius agreed.   
“Do… do you have any proof?” Harry asked.

Albus rolled his eyes, and said sarcastically, “No, of course not. Diggory’s wife was really just a crude sex toy and he’s been broken by the realization. Of course we have proof—check Skeeter and Vane’s ankles, there should be a black lotus tattoo on them. It’s the mark of the Tong.”   
“How do you know that?” Scorpius asked.   
Albus pulled the origami black lotus that Scorpius had retrieved from Vane’s mouth out of his pocket. “Because I recognize the symbol, and I’ve seen Mrs. Diggory’s tattoo. I’m not only there when I break in.”

“When you _what_?” Harry said in scandalized tones, blinking quite rapidly.   
“Long story.” Scorpius grimaced. “Albus would only get a write up for loitering though. …Sir, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t trust this not to escalate with only Detective Inspector Diggory here to intervene, and I have to go to work. Could you please…?”   
“Your brother is more polite.” Harry grumbled.

Scorpius froze a smile to his face. “Oh, I don’t doubt that, sir.”   
Albus glared at Harry as he left, then nodded impassively at Scorpius as he followed.

He took the cup of tea and returned to Diggory and his pile of books.   
A few minutes later, Albus jolted when Diggory spoke out of the blue. “Did I ever tell you about when I first met my wife?”   
“…is this going to take a long time?” Albus asked bluntly.

Cedric chuckled. “She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I didn’t know what to say or do to impress her—surely some other, smarter man who didn’t trip all over himself would speak to her first and I’d never get a chance to get to know her.”   
“Are you referring to my father? Even you’re smarter than him.”

Cedric continued on undeterred. “I tried everything to get Cho—she’s still Cho to me—to notice me. I played sports. I joined clubs. But I really spoke to her one night when it was raining and she was walking home alone after a lecture, and I offered her an umbrella.”   
“…yes, it’s always approved of when strange men loom up out of the darkness to help women home.” Albus rolled his eyes.

“And I asked her out. And she didn’t know me from Adam, but it was only because I _asked_ , that I took the time to explicitly state that I wanted a relationship with her, that I got anywhere.” Cedric said.   
“Did you ask her this _under_ the umbrella?” Albus snorted.   
“Laugh all you want, but if you really want Scorpius, you need to actually, explicitly show interest.” Cedric said. “And to be a gentleman, don’t be rude to him.”

Albus whipped around and shot him a dark look. “If you don’t mind, I’m trying to solve _two_ murders.”   
“Oh, and you don’t think my sister in law did it?” Cedric raised an eyebrow. “If you’re going to use that excuse, at least do something that will help Cho.”   
“Like you?” Albus snapped.   
Cedric’s haunted look returned. “I just… I _left_ her… what kind of a husband am I…? Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ …”

Albus didn’t know how to deal with Diggory and this sort of thing—he was fairly certain it was nasty codependency issues at work—but he decided to do what Scorpius would do. He got a blanket—off of Scorpius’ bed, which was in fact very comforting and he would have used it himself with the day he had—and placed it on top of Diggory’s layers of blankets. He then warily patted the pile in what he assumed was a comforting manner, not that Diggory could even feel it.

He set aside the books for now, pulling out Scorpius’ laptop and clicking around. Within half an hour, he’d found the Tong syndicate’s cover—a circus. Cho likely wouldn’t be on the premises, so talking to Diggory would lead to nothing but pain, but… Albus paused. Perhaps it would be a nice place for a date?


	5. It's About Family

Albus was waiting when Scorpius came home, despite Diggory’s protests that he should be looking for Cho. Mrs. Figg had bundled off the Detective Inspector somewhere once he grew too troublesome/weepy.   
Scorpius walked straight into the maze of books that Albus had haphazardly played candles on top of periodically.

“What happened to the electricity? Albus, this is a fire hazard.” Scorpius said.   
Albus shrugged. “Scorpius, are you free tonight?”   
“What?” Scorpius stared at him, blinking rapidly.   
Albus backpedaled. “I may have found a lead. The circus is in town, Scorpius, and you know that acrobats could scale buildings like Ms. Lam…”

“…wouldn’t it just be smarter to send Ms. Lam? Or to get everyone a tourist visa? I’ve heard that there are a great deal of Chinese tourists at the moment. Using a circus as cover seems like the first place that the police would check for an acrobat.” Scorpius pointed out.   
“The police are idiots, and we might as well follow up on it.” Albus shrugged, beginning to chip away at one of his nails.   
Scorpius noticed, and gave a small smile. “If you want to go on a date, you just need to ask.”

“Pfft. A _date_. It’s not a date. It’s just two people who like each other going out and having fun.”   
“I’m not saying no.” Scorpius pointed out.   
Albus blinked at him rapidly. “Are you saying you want to…?” A date would be perfect cover.   
Scorpius smiled. “Why not? I’ll go get dressed.”   
“Why not wear that?” Albus asked.   
Scorpius raised an eyebrow. “Because scrubs tend not to be socially acceptable outside of work?”

“Tsk.” Albus tutted as Scorpius disappeared through the maze of books to he stairs to his room. “ _Society_.”

However, he immediately reversed this position when Scorpius returned. He’d taken a quick shower to wash off the smell of the hospital, which left his hair slightly wet, fluffy and somewhat curling at the edges. He’d also put on cologne, the scent of which Albus didn’t quite recognize—used for special occasions? He was also wearing his good coat and pants.

Albus swallowed, suddenly feeling that perhaps his bloodstained, long coat wasn’t up to snuff.   
Scorpius smiled and took his hand. “Shall we?”   
“Yes. Of course.” Albus said quickly, grabbing his coat on the way out anyway.   
It was… nice. They chatted in the cab about the case and Scorpius’ work (which Albus still despised, but he knew better than to say it to Scorpius’ face and start a row).

And then they reached the circus. It wasn’t a problem in and of itself, although Albus was not expecting to see his cousin there.   
“Hello, Rose.” Scorpius said, shooting Albus a glance to try and gauge his reaction.   
Rose raised a hand in greeting. “Hello, boys. On a case?”   
“Actually—” Scorpius began.  
“Yes.” Albus said simply. “We’re posing as a couple to infiltrate the circus.”

Rose’s eyes shifted between them. Albus kept his eyes on her, painfully aware that Scorpius had moved slightly to the side away from him.   
“And why do you need to infiltrate the circus?” Rose asked, sticking her hands in her pockets. “By which I mean, should I start running?”

“No, it should be fine.” Scorpius said, forcing a smile. “Just checking out a lead.”   
“Why are you here, anyway?” Albus asked.   
“My girlfriend, the one in Human Resources? She got us tickets, but had to bail at the last moment. Her mum had an issue at the family pub.” Rose sighed. “She told me to come anyway, said I should get to see it even without her.”

“You like her.” Albus huffed. “That’s dangerous, I haven’t met her yet.”   
Rose waved him off. “You’ll meet her next week. Come on, let’s go before the show starts.”   
They got their tickets and walked in. Rose was no Albus, but she knew people well enough that Scorpius had been hurt by Albus being an idiot. She didn’t know exactly how, but Albus was always an idiot.

It wasn’t so much of a circus as a room with a circle where people performed, apparently escapes or something of the like. Rose didn’t notice when Albus disappeared, but sidled over to Scorpius when she noticed he was alone.

“So, how’d my stupid cousin bugger up?” She prodded him gently.   
Scorpius smiled wanly. “He didn’t screw up. I did. I was the one who insisted this was a date. …he probably only agreed to get me to come.”   
“…so you said it was a date, and the minute he gets here, he says it’s a case and runs away?” Rose shook her head. “Like I said, stupid cousin.”

“It’s honestly probably for the best. Albus is extraordinarily intelligent, but not on an emotional level? I don’t think he really understands what I want and how to handle that.”   
Rose rolled her eyes. “I mean, he’s stupid, but not _that_ stupid.”

“Rose, I don’t think he’s ever been in a real relationship like this before.” Scorpius said firmly.   
“Stop giving him excuses. Just tell him, straight out, you want to date him.”   
Scorpius pursed his lips. “I… severed ties with my family. I didn’t tell my friends I was coming back to London. I tried to start everything all over again, but even with my brother and my best friend back in my life, Albus is still… he’s… he’s so important to me, Rose.”

“Then _tell_ him.” Rose rolled her eyes. “Before it’s too la—”   
Before she could finish her sentence, Albus came flying out of the curtain separating the stage from the backstage area. An acrobat advanced with a large knife, interrupting the performance.   
Albus scrambled to his feet. “Scorpius, I found the paint! I found the evidence!” He was then immediately tackled by the acrobat.

Most of the spectators had run away at this point, though Scorpius and Rose darted forward. Scorpius barreled into Albus’ attacker while Rose kept the acrobat who had been onstage, Fan Guk, at bay with an enormous arrow used previously in the act. Clearly Fan Guk's heart was not into it though, since she didn't take Rose out immediately. Scorpius and the assailant wrestled for a moment, before Albus shakily rose to his feet. Scorpius wriggled out of the assailant’s grip, and Rose threw down her makeshift weapon. The three of them ran, despite Scorpius wincing slightly over a leg wound sustained from the fighting.

They didn’t stop running until they were back at Baker Street. Harry was waiting for them.   
“Albus, I need something to show for this.” He said as they entered the room.   
“God, you scared the _crap_ out of me!” Rose said, clutching at her chest, still wheezing from the stairs and extended exercise. “What are you doing here, Uncle Harry?”   
“I need information.” Harry said, unamused. “I’m here because _someone_ got himself on YouTube instead of telling me what was going on.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Albus asked.   
Harry held up his phone. A clip of Albus yelling, “Scorpius, I found the paint! I found the evidence!” and being tackled before Scorpius and Rose got involved played.   
“So, what evidence?” Harry asked, almost cordially. “Because we sent some people down to the theater and everything’s completely gone. I have nothing to show for this.”

“…Michigan hardcore zinc propellant.” Albus finally said. “I saw a symbol they’d left—the bank, but also by the train tracks. I saw paint cans for the same type of paint. That links them to the Vane/Skeeter murders, as both had a message left for them with the paint. I saw tattoos from everyone there indicating that they’re in the Tong, the drug cartel we mentioned.”   
“You scared them off though. We could have gotten them just with Mrs. Diggory.” Harry ground his teeth. “Where are they, Albus? What do they want?”

“Why do you expect me to know?!” Albus exploded. “I don’t! I don’t know!”   
“A woman’s life is on the line!” Harry snapped.   
“We nearly died earlier, it’s probably the rest of that _fucking_ video! Why can you bring yourself to care about someone you went to school with, but not your own son?! That’s not even new, at least care about Rose!”

Harry’s face immediately fell. “Albus…” He moved forward to talk to his son.   
Scorpius stood between them. “With all due respect sir, I think you have done enough for one night. If you’re truly concerned about Mrs. Diggory, you’d better get a move on. The hall that the circus was in couldn’t have been combed that thoroughly yet.”

Harry paused for a moment, before he nodded once and left.  
“I don’t need a knight in shining armor.” Albus huffed.   
Rose glared at him, then turned to Scorpius. “Ignore him. That’s Albus for ‘thank you’.”   
Scorpius grimaced. “I’m well-versed in what Albus means. And I wasn’t trying to overstep any boundaries.”

Albus frowned, and moved past him straight to his work.   
“I’m… going to go see if we have any food around here.” Scorpius cleared his throat. “I’m starving, are you hungry Rose?”   
“Like the wolf.” She gave him a bright smile, and he disappeared out the door, well aware that they had no proper food in 221B.   
Rose immediately flicked Albus in the head.

“Ow!” Albus hissed. “What the hell?!”   
“Uncle Harry’d still be here if it wasn’t for him.” Rose said firmly. “He doesn’t judge you, or pity you, or whatever you’re sulking about. He didn’t run when he heard you’re a junkie, and that’s far more embarrassing than Uncle Harry. Hell, in terms of embarrassing parents, both of us know the Weasleys are far more affectionate, especially in public, than those who married in.”

Albus shot her an icy glare. “I’m not embarrassed.”   
“Yes you are, you absolute pillock. You’re embarrassed you couldn’t get Uncle Harry to bugger off on your own—that means you should  _thank_ Scorpius, by the way.” Here she crossed her arms. “And apologize, you twat.”   
“Apologize? For what?” Albus demanded.   
“Did you see his face when you said it wasn’t a date? He _likes_ you. I don’t know why, since you’ve spent the evening being a massive prick, but he does. So, go tell him you love him.”

“…cases can be dates.” Albus said softly.   
Rose sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose. “And that, right there? That’s the sort of thing Uncle Harry pulls. Scorpius isn’t Aunt Ginny, he’s not going to be blunt with you like she is with him. He probably thinks letting you drag him around London like this is _fine_. It’s not, Albus. Either do something normal wherein you actually admit your feelings for the poor guy, _properly_ , or tell him to bugger off before he gets too attached.”

“I thought it was obvious.” Albus ground out.   
“Yeah, but that doesn’t give you pass to act this way, and it doesn’t mean you’ve actually confessed anything.” Rose rolled her eyes. “I’m going to go help Scorpius get edible food. Don’t wait up.”   
“Wh… I want food too.” Albus huffed as she left, admittedly more petulant than he’d intended.

Rose didn’t respond. Sometime later, Albus finished cataloging all the books, and gathered the assembled guidebooks. He used some that weren’t about London—didn’t hurt to branch out. He ran several translations with the cipher. The first few were nonsense, but by the time he got to the London A-Z, it was beginning to make sense.

Albus hurriedly translated the rest of it, then darted out of 221B, hurriedly calling Scorpius. He didn’t pick up. Albus growled in annoyance and called Rose.   
“Immature, stupid, idiots!” He yelled, breaking into a run towards Northumberland Street. There was no reason they’d go to a chip shop with Panju nearby with good food. Didn’t they know how _worried_ he was!? He was going to be _so_ angry once he found them at Panju’s!

Meanwhile, Scorpius blearily woke up to find himself tied to a chair in a dark room. He squinted up at the person who approached—who was that? How did he… oh, that was Fan Guk. Oh dear.   
“—go, you bastards!” Rose hissed.   
Scorpius realized she was tied back to back with him.

“Of course. Everyone will go free once we have recovered our artifact.” A new woman said smoothly, stepping closer to Rose. She was older than Fan Guk, with a matronly figure and steel-gray hair.   
“Who’re you?” Scorpius winced, well aware he was essentially slurring. He shook himself awake—no time for this now.

“Ah, Mr. Potter. I am the General of the Tong. It’s good to meet you in person.” The woman said. “I would shake your hand, but alas, you seem a bit… preoccupied.”   
“You speak better English than I do right now.” Scorpius said, before frowning. “Was that offensive? Sorry. I’m a bit… I’m a bit loony right now.”   
“Oh dear God.” Rose groaned. “What’d you do to him?”

“We apparently didn’t administer the correct dose of sedative.” Fan Guk looked incredibly embarrassed. She bowed deeply and said something to the General in Cantonese, likely an apology.   
Rose sighed. “Look, we’re really not worth this. I’m the Prime Minister’s daughter—you think they’ll just let you walk away after you kill us?”

“We won’t have to kill anyone if your cousin just tells us where the artifact is.” The General said silkily. “Apologies we couldn’t get our hands on your assistant, Mr. Potter, but we couldn’t guarantee he’d survive. Lam Fan Guk was very upset about her performance being ruined, after all.”   
Scorpius gave an enormous grin. “Oh, no no no. It’s quite alright. Now, what are you looking for?”   
The General smacked him across the face quite hard. “You _know_ what we’re looking for, Mr. Potter! Do not play the fool with me!”

Scorpius tasted blood. He gave her a brilliant smile. “I’m afraid we don’t. We haven’t cracked the cipher yet, you see. It’s driving him absolutely mad.” He wasn’t sure if it was the pain, or the drugs but he chuckled. “He’s so handsome when he’s on a case and just… made of passion.”   
“Oh my _God_!” Rose hissed. “We don’t have time for you to go on about your boyfriend!”   
The General grabbed Scorpius’ hair and pulled it so that he was looking her in the eye. “No more games, Mr. Potter. Where. Is. The. Pin.”   
“Is that what it is?” Scorpius asked pleasantly.

“One more joke, and I will personally slit your cousin’s throat.” The General said in a low voice. “The Jade Empress Pin, valued at 9 million pounds sterling. It was stolen by one of those wretched women on their way back. We had a buyer. _Where is it_.”   
Scorpius was silent for a moment. It wasn’t on the market, or they’d know.

“Did either of them know about the buyer?” He asked.   
“Of course not. We kept them in the dark so that they couldn’t pull this treachery.” The General snorted.   
Scorpius frowned at the floor. So it wasn’t on the market, and it hadn’t gone to the buyer. It couldn’t be sold off that quickly, could it? Idly, his thoughts turned to the Green Barrette Vane’s colleague had been wearing. He paled.

“The clock is ticking, Mr. Potter.” The General said.   
“Fuck this, I’m not dying for your mind games! That’s not my cousin, that’s his boyfriend!” Rose hissed.   
The General froze. “You’re sure?”   
“Of course I’m sure!” Rose snapped. “You think I can’t tell my _biracial cousin of Indian descent_ from the whitest man I’ve ever seen? I’m not the one who is high as a kite!”

The General seemed to consider this. “But he’ll come for the pale man?”   
“He’ll come for both of us.” Rose said firmly. “Don’t think you can just kill me and be done with it. If you hurt me, hell will be unleashed.”   
“And if I hurt him?”   
“You already have.” Scorpius pointed out.

“I haven’t _really_ hurt you.” The General gave a long, slow smile. “Not the way I could. I _could_ leave your broken body at the entrance to the tramway as a warning to Potter not to play games.”   
Scorpius cocked his head. “Are you threatening me with _death_ , or being paralyzed? Because I don’t fear death. Not from you. Understand, I served in Afghanistan. There’s an entire page in my file that’s heavily redacted. As for being paralyzed, I… hmm. Albus would cast me aside, I would lose my job, I’d probably have to go back to my family… I think at that point, I’d just end it myself.”

“Scorpius, what the hell?” Rose snapped. “Albus would never cast you—”   
“The minute I couldn’t keep up with him, I’d be slowly phased out.” Scorpius continued calmly. “As for being paralyzed, I know many people live happy, full lives in spite of their disability. But I can’t start over again. I can’t go back to Wiltshire, and pretend that everything is _okay_. I can’t lose everything and just… be fine with it.”

At 22 Northumberland Street, Pryansh and Albus were stoking each other’s panic.   
“Dad will kill me if Rose was kidnapped by human traffickers!” Pryansh wailed.   
“Would Scorpius have run off with Rose? Are they getting married?!” Albus demanded of no one in particular.   
“Rose is a lesbian.” Pryansh pointed out.   
“And Scorpius is gay!” Albus threw his arms in the air. “What’s your point?!”

Cass shot them both an annoyed look, and typedsomething into Pryansh’s phone. “Done, the whole family knows now. James said he’d track their phones.”   
“Yes!” Albus said. “Clever, clever Cass!”   
“I try.” She smiled.

“Trying doesn’t mean anything if my sister is dead!” Pryansh hissed. “Oh, God, the prime minister will blame _me_ …”   
Albus began pacing. “They were likely kidnapped for ransom. They’ll send us ears in the mail.”   
“Okay, so we’re back to panicking then.” Cass noted. “Good to know. Hey, weren’t you recently working a case where a woman got kidnapped?”

Albus slowly looked at her. “Those rotten bastards! They took my Scorpius! You’re right Cass, the smugglers have taken my blogger, and I need to trade with them!”   
He whipped out his phone, and dialed someone quickly. “Nott, I need the Vane’s lover’s address. What do you mean, you don’t know who? The colleague with the green hair bobble!”

After convincing Penelope, two long taxi rides, talking to the unfortunate woman and practically bullying her into handing over the hairpin (Scorpius would be disappointed but _Albus didn’t care_ ), Albus arrived at the tramway. He stepped inside, careful to make as little noise as possible.   
“By the way, where’s Mrs. Diggory?” He heard Scorpius ask cordially. “I can’t help but notice she’s not here with us.”

“Lam Dak Cheon will be made an example of.” A woman said scornfully. “I will have _no_ betrayal in my ranks.”   
Another woman, likely Fan Guk, said something in rapid-fire Cantonese. The first woman shot something back, and there was the sound of someone being hit.   
“Don’t punish her for what I’ve done.” Scorpius begged.   
Rose groaned. “What, do you want to be a bloody, half-conscious mess when Albus gets here? Do you want to be surrounded by dead people? He won't react well to you being nearly dead, I'll tell you that.”

“It’s not _right_.” Scorpius snapped.   
“Silence, before I make you be quiet myself.” The woman snarled. “You’re still the least valuable hostage, I could shoot you here and now.”   
Albus’ blood began to boil. “I really, really wouldn’t.” He said loudly.   
“Mr. Potter, I presume?” The woman said calmly. “How nice of you to join us. Do you have the pin?”

“Of course I have the pin, just as you have my cousin, my blogger, and Mrs. Diggory. Return them all to me, and I’ll give you the pin. I think a ransom of 3 million pounds sterling each is good, don’t you?”   
The woman laughed. “And yet your _companion_ said you hadn’t cracked the code. Tell me, Mr. Potter. Why should I believe it’s even you? Why shouldn’t I just shoot you here and now?”

“Well, the curvature of the tunnel, for one.” Albus said. “It could bounce off and strike you.” He heard someone cock a gun.   
“Then tell me why I shouldn’t shoot your lovely companion.” He could just _tell_ she was smirking. How dare she.   
Albus walked into the tunnel, in plain view of the woman and everyone else. “Hurt them and I’ll destroy the pin.”

He took in the sight of Scorpius’ face. His lip was cut, and his cheek was bruised, but she seemed to have mostly let him be.   
“And what’s to stop me from killing you all right now?” The woman chuckled.   
A second gun was cocked. Everyone stared as Fan Guk pointed a gun at the General. She pulled the trigger before any of the subordinates could stop her.

Everyone stared for a moment, before Fan Guk snapped something in Cantonese. The subordinates backed off, but did not completely disappear.   
“That was… unexpected.” Albus admitted.   
“The General had it coming.” Fan Guk said simply. “She was old, and growing stupid. She’d have gotten us all killed. Family should come before everything—I did this for Dak Cheon, not you.”

“Does that mean you’re letting her go?” Scorpius asked. “Back to her husband?”   
“She’d be miserable at home. Just make sure that the stupid Englishman takes care of her.” Fan Guk shrugged, before holding out her hand. “You will give me the pin _now_ , or I _will_ kill your boyfriend the way that I killed the woman I considered a mother. Clear?”   
Albus nodded, trying not to let his worry show. He fumbled in his coat for the pin, then dropped it in her hand. Fan Guk snapped something at the subordinates—her subordinates now—and Rose and Scorpius were untied. She said something else, and someone disappeared down a hall.

“They tracked Rose and Scorpius’ phones.” Albus said. “The police will be here soon.”   
Fan Guk considered this, then shrugged. “Let them come, they won’t find anything.”   
“Someone needs to take the fall.” Albus hissed.   
Fan Guk pointed to the woman at their feet. “Everything wrapped up evenly.”

Albus glared at her. “You know that’s not—”   
Scorpius tugged on his arm. “ _Don’t_. She helped us, this could have ended much, much worse for us. Be grateful.”   
Albus turned and looked at him, gently tracing the bruise. “She’s lucky she’s already dead.”   
Scorpius gave him a wan smile. “We need to talk—”

Mrs. Diggory chose that moment to reappear, and Fan Guk’s smugglers immediately began to pack up and disappear.   
“The official story is that she” Albus pointed to the General’s body, “is responsible for all of this. Is that clear, everyone?”   
“Crystal.” Rose said.

“Cedric needs to know the truth.” Cho said firmly. “He saw her take me.”   
“She was going to shoot you last time we saw her.” Scorpius noted. “What changed?”   
Cho laughed. “I didn’t know at the time, but her gun was empty. She would never point a loaded gun at someone she didn’t intend to shoot, that’s one of the first rules of gun ownership.”   
“Let’s… continue this away from the deep, dark, dank tramway.” Rose suggested.

They proceeded to the entrance of the tramway. The police, several ambulances and various family members were all pulling up at the same time. The prime minister and her husband were the first civilians out of their cars, followed closely by Orpheus and James.   
“Rose!” Hermione pulled her daughter into a hug, and Ron hugged both of them. “Are you alright? Did they… touch you?” Hermione asked quickly, pulling away and cupping her daughter's face.   
"How did this happen?" Ron added. 

“No, no I’m fine. Scorpius got the worst of it, honestly. And from what I gather, it was a Chinese drug cartel...” Rose said quickly as Orpheus trapped Scorpius in a bear hug. “Do you have any idea how worried I was?! I stress-ate all of the Hershey’s bars in the vending machine!”   
“Quite a feat, given that you pretty much _just_ found out I was missing.” Scorpius quipped. “Ow, ow, watch the ribs, I need to breathe…”

“Don’t ever, _ever_ worry me like that again.” Orpheus whispered. Scorpius could tell he was trying not to cry.   
“It’s nothing compared to my first tour… okay I guess I don’t need to breathe after all…” Scorpius choked out as Orpheus hugged him even tighter. Scorpius gently hugged him back, before he was led away to give a statement to the police and get a shock blanket.

Orpheus, instead of buggering off, hovered obnoxiously during Scorpius' interview while James sighed next to him. “Orpheus, he’s not just going to disappear under our noses again.”   
Orpheus shot him a long look. “Did you do _the thing_?”   
“Texting Pryansh to call off the manhunt or…?” James asked.   
“The _thing_.” Orpheus hissed.

James sighed. “If you mean ‘bugging my brother’s flat so you can spy on _your_ brother’, then no. I did not. That is insane, and Albus will make a sweep anyway, as h always does on Thursdays.”   
“How do you know _that_?” Scorpius asked.   
“Because I already bugged it months ago.” James said calmly. “I plant fakes every now and then so he doesn’t suspect me, but I digress.”

“…are they in the bathroom?” Scorpius asked.   
“No, and not the bedrooms either.” James huffed. “I took them out of _there_ once you moved in. I doubt I have to explain _why_.”   
“I could kiss you.” Orpheus grinned.   
“Please do.” James nodded agreeably.

Albus walked up as Orpheus pulled James into a kiss. “You’re… alright, right?”   
Scorpius nodded. “They gave me an ice pack when they brought me over here, I think? Sorry, I’m still a bit loopy from the drugs. James said he bugged our flat.”   
James hurriedly pulled away from Orpheus. “ _Traitor_. Just for that, I’ll bug your bedroom again.”   
Scorpius cocked his head. “You _really_ want to hear my PSTD-induced nightmares that badly? I’m lucky Albus never sleeps anyway, he’d probably kick me out of the flat for disturbing the peace.”

“Fair enough, it’s not like I can’t hear you screaming from the bug in the living room.” James amended, before turning to his brother. “Diggory and Rose were both right, y’know. This could have ended much worse than it did, and then what?”   
Orpheus looked ill, and tried to hug his brother again. James gently towed him away.

Albus shuffled his feet. “I… are you still high?”   
“Kind of.” Scorpius admitted. “Not high enough to not remember talking to _you_.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “I don’t remember anything about the police questioning me except Orpheus being nearby the entire time.”   
“I don’t think it’s supposed to do that.” Albus said smoothly.

“Please don’t tell me you took black market Chinese kidnapping sedatives too.”   
“No, I just have a basic knowledge of what they should do.” Albus crossed his arms. “Look… this is… hard to admit, but would you like to go on another date?”   
“A date.” Scorpius replied. “A real one. Nothing to do with a case.”   
“…are you saying you considered every case-date not to be real?” Albus asked softly.   
Scorpius nodded firmly. “Last night wasn’t a real date. I haven’t been on that many, but I’m relatively certain you’re not meant to get into a fight with some of the circus performers.”

Albus snorted. “That’s just how normal people do it. How _dull_.”   
Both of them started laughing, then Scorpius grabbed Albus’ hand, and gently pulled him onto a kiss on the mouth. “We should probably wait for our Real Date until I’m decidedly less high.” He muttered against Albus’ lips.   
Albus, unused to such a reaction, his mind basically a whirl of ‘he kissed me again _he kissed me again hekissedmeagain’_ , nodded solemnly.

Scorpius smiled and patted his arm. “Maybe you should sit down.”   
Albus made a sound like steam escaping a valve.   
Scorpius chuckled. “I’ll go get you some tea.”

Albus ignored that Scorpius was the injured one and sat down to wait for him to return. Unfortunately, while Scorpius was gone, someone else sat down.   
“You did good.” Harry said. “Your aunt and uncle are probably going to come over and invite you to tea or something to thank you officially for saving Rose.”   
“They already did.” Albus was _not_ going to let Harry ruin this. He _refused._

“I just wanted to say… I’m proud of you. I know it hasn’t always been… easy between us, but you’re a good kid, Albus. You remind me of myself sometimes, but I know I never could have solved it. Thank you for doing this—all of this.”   
Albus slowly turned to look at his father. It didn’t erase the years of pain and misery but…   
“Thank you.” Albus said, letting his father hug him. “ _Thank you_.”


End file.
